


a true story

by marmolita



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aunt-Niece Relationship, Backstory, Character Study, Gen, Pre-Canon, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 08:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11916810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/pseuds/marmolita
Summary: These are things that Kate Argent knows to be true:  She loves her brother.  She loves her niece.  Men can't be trusted.Monsters are real.





	a true story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [verity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/gifts).
  * Inspired by [check your closet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/694769) by [verity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verity/pseuds/verity). 



> WARNINGS: I marked "choose not to warn" for a reason. There are warnable things in this fic, but I don't want to spoil it. If you click ahead to the end notes, I've noted the warnings there.
> 
> Thank you remix revival for giving me the chance to write a fic I've actually wanted to write for years.

These are things that Kate Argent knows to be true: She loves her brother. She loves her niece. Men can't be trusted.

Monsters are real.

***

One of Kate's earliest memories is holding her father's hand as he opens the door to a room with no windows. The room is dimly lit and there's a hum of electricity. She walks into the room unafraid, because her father is with her. A man is chained to the far wall, head slumped down. 

"Daddy? Who is that man?"

"That, honey," her father says, "is no man." He flips a switch and the electric hum stops. The man against the far wall raises his head and twists it, and then--

It's not a man at all. It's a monster.

"Don't be afraid, Katie," Daddy says, "We kill monsters."

***

"You want a bedtime story, babydoll?" she asks her five year-old niece. "Always got time for you."

"Yeah," Allison says, sipping her milk. "I want a story."

***

Here is a story:

There was a little girl whose parents were warriors. They raised her as a soldier, not a daughter. Her family lived by a code of honor, as they had for generations. Her mother was their general, and the staunchest adherent to their code; when she died, the task of the girl's training fell to her father.

He taught her to show no weakness, no mercy, no compassion. He raised her to be their greatest general: to vanquish the monsters, every last one.

***

When Kate is eight years old, she finds a monster in her closet. She screams and slams the door, then remembers the lessons that have been drilled into her head and shoves a chair under the door handle. It's not until she's gotten to her father's room, all the doors between there and her closet shut tight and blockaded, that she realizes the monster was in chains.

***

Allison is a tiny thing, wrapped all in a blanket, face pink and wrinkled. Kate strokes her cheek with one finger and Allison turns toward the touch, mouth opening to seek food. "She's beautiful," she tells her brother. Chris settles his hand on Kate's shoulder, warm and comforting. "I love her already."

Kate is better at killing things than at saving people, but she decides then and there that she's going to protect Allison for the rest of her life.

***

"Want me to check your closet for monsters?" Kate asks, already in motion.

"I'm a big girl," Allison says. "You don't have to." But Allison's young face is pinched, and she's clutching her stuffed tiger tight.

"You do your job, and I'll do mine, okay?" Kate's job is killing monsters. She checks in the closet, under the bed, in the laundry hamper. Under the dresser, behind the drapes. She's checked Allison's room for monsters a thousand times and never once found one, but there's a first time for everything.

***

There's a boy at school who likes her. Kate lets him kiss her next to her locker, beneath the bleachers, in the school parking lot. She thinks, maybe, she loves him.

It's been two years since Chris moved away, and Kate is a lonely teenager. The boy is nice, and he doesn't know about her family. Being with him is simple.

At least, it's simple up until it's not. He takes her to a party, gives her a drink that's definitely not just punch, and convinces her to come upstairs with him, giggling and kissing along the way. There are two other boys in the bedroom, seniors, and they tell her how pretty she is. Her mind is fuzzy and her boyfriend is with her and she _likes_ being told she's pretty. She likes the interested way they look at her.

She likes it until they start to touch her, and then she's not so sure.

***

"Tell me a story," Allison says, perched on the edge of her bed as Kate braids her hair.

"Getting a little old for that, aren't you?" Kate runs her fingers through Allison's hair, over, under, over, under.

"You tell the best stories," she says. "Besides, I'm only twelve."

Kate smiles and kisses the back of her niece's head. "Alright, babydoll." She pauses, considering, then begins.

"Once upon a time, there was a family of werewolves . . ."

***

"I taught you to be strong," her father says harshly. "I taught you better than this." Kate sniffles, wiping at her eyes. "Do you want to be a victim? Do you want to be a sniveling coward?"

She doesn't. She _doesn't_. When the boy comes to her house the next day, tears in his eyes and apologies on his lips, she doesn't hesitate.

Her father helps dispose of the body, grimly satisfied. Kate moves in with Chris and Victoria and Allison, just for a while, until the whole thing blows over.

***

"Did the werewolves really all die?" Allison asks, wide-eyed. "And the city was safe?"

"Two of them got away," Kate says with a sigh. "The one the hunter had tricked, and one of his sisters."

"Why didn't the hunter go after them?"

"They ran away, far away, and there were other cities that needed saving."

Allison looks thoughtful and fiddles with her stuffed tiger. It's worn and starting to fall apart after all these years keeping her company in her bed. "Do you think they'll ever come back?"

"If they do," Kate says, pulling the covers up to Allison's chin, "the hunter will be there to stop them. Now go to sleep, honey, and tomorrow morning you can show me how good you're getting at archery."

"Okay. Goodnight, Aunt Kate."

"Goodnight, babydoll."

***

When Kate is fifteen years old, she finds a monster under her bed, lying in wait. She slits its throat with the knife she keeps under her pillow, then removes its head, just to be sure. When it's done, she brings the head downstairs to show to her father. He has never been more proud.

***

Chris raises Allison as a daughter, not as a soldier. There are never any monsters in her closet. She learns to be free with her heart, loving as she desires, and to trust that her family will keep her safe.

Still, there is something under the surface that tells Kate that Allison is much like herself. "I want one of your stories," Allison tells her, every time Kate comes to visit. "I want a true story."

This is the truth: Monsters are real, and men are monsters, and Kate Argent is there to stop them both.

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: non-graphic noncon, non-graphic child abuse (mostly emotional), victim-blaming.
> 
> Thanks to [quigonejinn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/quigonejinn) for coming up with part of the idea for Kate's backstory back in 2012, and for beta of this fic now!


End file.
